Now You Hear Me...

...Now You Don't

To Soho at 6pm yesterday to do a voiceover for Myles Painter as part of an "ongoing collaborative video project" by Peckham Artist Moving Image 2012. I was playing the part of a man who may or may not have killed his wife and who is answering police questions. The original brief (as I may have mentioned - I can't remember whether I've written about this before and in New Post mode it's difficult to see what has already been posted, which probably doesn't matter anyway because few people who read blogs do so in a linear fashion or remember what has been written before, so I might as well repeat it again here, with apologies to those who have read and remembered it before, and now apologies to everyone else who is reading and is bored by this long and totally unnecessary digression, which would have saved everyone time and trouble if I'd put this post into the draft folder and checked what I'd written before so that I wouldn't have to repeat myself here, or rather I would have repeated myself here but so artfully that it presented the information as new to new readers and as refreshing to older - in the sense of previous - readers)....

As I was saying... The original brief was for an upper class voice with a slightly foreign accent and in the end Myles decided that my dulcet Scottish tones were foreign enough for the people of Peckham. Come judge for yourself. The show is on 19th - 23rd September at the charmingly named Foodface Unit, DGE CIP House, 133 Copeland Road, London SE15 3SN. More details here.

From there the long trek out to Ealing again, home of hundreds of happy hatchling film-makers, this time as a call-back for the short comedy O Sole Mio, where they want me for chief bodyguard, Mike, a non-speaking role in a film where only one of the characters speaks. It looks fun and easy; all I have to do is look threatening, which is my natural look. The downside is that it is three days of filming, including a day on a bus to and from the city of Bath, for no pay whatsoever. It'll be a great film, they promise, shown at festivals all over the world. Well, yes, maybe it will and maybe it won't; in my short career as an actor and my decades-long career as a mostly human being, I've learnt to lower my expectations to maybe getting through the next twenty-four hours (when I got home the Other Half was watching a series of documentaries about Top Models Who Had Fallen Into Drugs And Degradation, which kind of reinforced the point that whether or not there are Ups there are always Downs). Of course I said I'd do it (we're back at the film again, after another digression), on condition that if a paid job comes in (Hah!), I'd pull out of the project.

So after the glamour of the acting world yesterday, it's back to reality today. I have to do some minor plumbing. The first question is, where is the master tap? I've lived in this flat for four years and I still don't know...